


Ariadne to Theseus

by chiefson



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:13:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10986984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiefson/pseuds/chiefson





	Ariadne to Theseus

You came to Knossos marked for death, and I

Beheld your face, and sought then to defy

The edict of my father, and the law

That sent you to the monster’s rav’nous maw.

So, armed with sword and thread, you walked the stone

Halls caked with dried blood, littered with old bones;

You met the beast, fought, triumphed, and walked free,

And with your vict’ry claimed a prize: claimed me.

But on the ship, and close by me each day,

You saw my blemishes, and turned away.

You loved the thought of me, and not the truth,

The thought that mirrored your own perfect youth.

You cost me all my father's love, and your

Love would not bear me past this rock-strewn shore.

You’ll pay the same price for your empty heart

That I paid for my full one; by the art

Of the Immortals, you will soon be left

Without your father, hopelessly bereft.

That is my curse! Unknowingly you’ll sail

To Athens, where a funereal wail

Will greet you at the palace; by then he

Who’s king there will have leapt into the sea.

Your ebon sail that spells out certain doom

Will send him plummeting down to his tomb.

You’ll dream then of my face, and bloody stone,

And every night you’ll waken with a groan;

The bull-face, staring out of polished bronze,

Will glower at you till the morning dawns.

And I? What consolation calms my mind,

Here in this place no mortal friend can find?

The wild vine embraces me. I drink

My lord’s blood from the fruit it bears, and sink

Into the welc’ming green to take my ease

Beneath the watchful shadows of the trees.

Now I am crowned with stars, and offered life

That flows to me from ‘neath a holy knife,

And here my wedding-feast is held each year.

Now I am ever free from grief and fear. 

Here all rejoice, and celebrate the hour

That I arose from life, reborn to power.


End file.
